Bringing obscure songs from the 1970s such as deep album cuts, underrated cover songs and forgotten singles back on this blog. The 70s was a great time for music, possibly the best and the most diverse; that some gems that need to be rediscovered
The tune begins with a pile driving riff multi-tracked to sound as big as Kashmir, it is Indian, speed rock and monolithic as Zeppelin' most iconic riffs.The rattling battle drums of Bonham were achieved with the thickest drum Sticks available and two sets of them; the four Sticks of the title. The gung-ho riff has a funky Black Sabbath 'syncopate and wail' style, while the octave leaping notes sound slightly dissonant with its Eastern modalities.
The chorus is built around an Olde English folk guitar figure ending in string glissandos, it is played on a semi acoustic Danelectro backed with a snoring Moog part. Plant's reedy vocal sounds similar to the tone of Indian instruments. An onslaught of overdubbed fuzz Moogs take over with a new riff, carrying a raga tinge overstate what had been a subtle Indian sound. The ending shenai like synths and Plant's thin pitch vocal and undulating vocal gymnastics at the end confirm the Indian middle Eastern influence.The structure of the song is the same as Kashmir and Friends with a verse riff/chorus riff and a gigantic third riff that closes the whole thing out.
Lyrically, the haunted double-tracked glacial cries of Plant match the imagery of "owls cry in the night" as he describes either the end of a relationship or a drug addition in mysterious, fantastical metaphors.
A crash of sounds as big cymbals and acoustic guitars strike in unison to begin the track. Smothered in hypnotic layers of 12-string guitars, strumming eternally in the foreground while Pete Ham's sallow haunted vocals croon despairingly.
There's a glow to the track from George Harrison sweet lilting slide guitar aching through the mix to the golden sunshine of layers of guitars to the spellbinding use of twinkling tik-toking piano notes all add to the glorious splendour of this track. The bouncy bass drum turnarounds thud and roll like heavy artillery adding some hard rock and pace to the largely subdued tempo.
The drum parts kick in along with angelic oohs for the chorus to pick up before returning to the glistening malaise. This gilded production is an exercise in arrangement sense, to make lilting slide guitar, twilight piano, 12 string guitars together; the power of the vocals and the songwriting still make the track. The underlying tragic undercurrent of Pete Ham's songs was always evident, not just in the hit Without You but also here as he grimly recalls how "I remember finding out about you", it's not an endearing line but more of haunted statement, almost tinged with more regret and pathos as he struggles to go cold turkey off a relationship in a "lonely room, Day after Day"
Built around a skiffle ukelele tune with a philosophical message about friends and lovers and the importance of keeping good company is probably the best example of Brian May's orchestrated gutiar army concept. While the song treads the same acoustic May led shuffle as 39, this has such a range of guitar sounds it has to be broken down.
It starts off with a trio of guitars pinging off in a a row of ascending frequencies, like a set of delayed arpeggios played in three rising octaves; it sounds like an old call signal or a TV Station Ident and functions as a motif or reoccurring break before returning to the skiffle.
Then around the 30 second mark, some syrupy flute like flutters enter and scampers around the edges of the song. The crystal clear bell tone of May's fills are fluid yet tactile. Then around 50 seconds the flute diddles are temporarily replaced by some rather spongy wah wah gasbag guitar fills chomping away in jazzy walking lines. Another run through of the 'radio station ident' delayed arpeggios, also known as a bell effect occurs ending at 1:08 in a particularly deliciously clean, triple tracked guitar scream; wrangled presumably with a very low gain tone setting so only the signal blares out with zero noise or ambiance; just a vacuum clean ghostly guitar shriek from the tracked guitars that if it wasn't for the pure distortion would mimic Roger Taylor's infamous "AAHHS" falsettos.
The scruffy ukulele verse returns with the slap dash drums, some 'Flash Gordon/Procession/God Save the Queen' styled grand triple octave Court of the King processional guitar lines descend for this verse. Finally the group harmonies, dominated by Freddie deep velvet accent, appear for the first time, they segue in with their typical hushed 'lounge lizard' cabaret style, however it has occurred to me the undulating tone of their cooing vocals oohing and aahing matches the drawl of May's slushy/slurpy old timey clarinet licks, like a vocal reproduction of some of the Red Special. The way May could make his sleek guitar mimic the shrieks, oohs, aahhs of Mercury and Taylor's velvety vocals was very fitting.
A hyper phased bridge resembles everyone from Deep Purple Strange Kind of Woman to Rush's Fly By the Night, however right in the middle of it at 2.22, a piercing guitar with high pitch plays a pan flute type of doodle. As 2.40 approaches we descend into Brian May's own personal one man studio Dixieland Jazz band as he heaps different guitar sounds to replicate different 1920s Trad jazz, Big Band instruments on are ears. The slinky clarinet is a clear toned guitar playing a very fluid sustain like the flutes of earlier, except instead of little prancing riffs they play bawdy long figures. Around 2.56 an elephantine trombone bawls in, clearly achieved by sliding a note down the guitar's bass string, dragged with immense pressure and possibly detuned or slowed down to get the big, huffy brassiness.
Among the baritone trombone bray of one guitar, buried deep beneath the clarinet and flutes are some guitars piping in with the chirpy Dixieland horns parts, clearly played out by more high ptiched, clean guitars.
The Steamboat Willie-esque tin whistle pip at the end is the crackly 1920s jazz band cherry on top!
